


Fake News

by for_darkness_shows_the_stars



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: 3+1, Ahsoka is basically Anakin and Padmé's eldest daughter, Friendship, Gen, HoloNet, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:40:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23705512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/for_darkness_shows_the_stars/pseuds/for_darkness_shows_the_stars
Summary: The three times Ahsoka Tano was horrified by what the HoloNet said about her, and the one time she was proud.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, CT-7567 | Rex & Ahsoka Tano, Padmé Amidala & Ahsoka Tano, minor background Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 32
Kudos: 369





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy!!!

I

Ahsoka didn’t actually have the time to regularly check up with the HoloNet, or catch up on all her favourite shows for the first few months of her apprenticeship. In between battles and skirmishes, what little free time she did have was spent either honing her skills or getting some much-needed rest.

The first time she consciously turned it on in order to see what the rest of the galaxy thought of the war was during a short shore leave, in her room in the Temple. She swapped a few channels aimlessly, looking for anything worth the time it would take to watch it, when she caught a section of a sentence spoken in an accented female voice.

_“… and of course, there’s recently been an addition to the Skywalker-Kenobi team …”_

Furiously swapping, Ahsoka found that channel again, and watched a Twi’lek presenter with too much make-up talk to a greasy-haired Devaronian colleague. They were sitting in comfortable-looking armchairs, sipping something out of steaming mugs, while the cityscape of Coruscant buzzed trough the floor-to-ceiling windows behind them.

 _“So I’ve heard,”_ said the Devaronian, in a nasal voice. _“Some little runt, I believe.”_

Ahsoka bristled at the insult.

The Twi’lek grinned, and looked to the audience. _“My dear guests, whether you join us from the studio or the comfort of your own homes, meet Commander Ahsoka Tano.”_ A huge picture of Ashoka’s face came into view. _“A girl of fourteen, as inexperienced as it gets, with absolutely no fashion sense.”_

The Devaronian smiled. _“Gods above, look at her. A bit skinny for a Jedi, don’t you think?”_

 _“Certainly,”_ the other replied, taking a sip out of her mug. _“I can’t imagine who though it was a good idea to pair her up with the Team. She’ll only slow them down!”_

 _“Not to mention,”_ the Devaronian sneered, _“that she’ll destroy all the pictures! Can you imagine the Team, all dashing, with this little thing here to ruin it?!”_

Ahsoka felt heat pool in her eyes. She’d never cared about her looks, much less been self-conscious about them, but the things they were saying …

 _“Gah!”_ the Twi’lek snarled. _“If I wanted that, I would go look at the pictures of Yoda! Hopefully, she won’t last long. Battlefields are a dangerous place, or so I’ve heard._ ” Her lips stretched into a malicious grin, and Ahsoka couldn’t take it anymore. She shut the stupid thing off.

Later that day, Anakin took her out to some diner in CoCo Town that he said Master Obi-Wan used to take him to when he was a Padawan. They ate, and even though she could distantly tell that the food was good, very good even, it tasted like ash in Ashoka’s mouth.

“Snips …” Anakin asked, brow furrowed in concern, while they were waiting for their deserts, “is everything all right? You’ve been kind of out of it the whole day.”

Ahsoka stiffened. “Everything’s fine,” she said, but it sounded false even to her.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!” she snapped. The look of genuine hurt flashed in Anakin’s eyes, and she instantly felt awful. “I … I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he said, “but … _are_ you okay?”

“I … no.” She buried her face in her hands, sorrow and fury, and a tangle of other very un-Jedi-like emotions raging in her heart.

Then, she felt a hesitant touch on her shoulder, and looked up to see Anakin watch her with some strange sort of openness, blue eyes wide, a rogue lock of golden hair falling in front of his face. He looked less like the dauntless General Skywalker, and more like … well, Anakin.

“Talk to me, Snips,” he urged.

“I …” she began, “I went on HoloNet this morning.” She looked up, pleading him to understand without words. She sent her overwhelming knot of emotions his way through their fledgling bond.

“So? What’s wrong with that?” he asked, even more confounded than before.

Ahsoka managed to muster up some of the cockiness that had earned her her nickname to smile bitterly. “You don’t really go HoloNet channel surfing, do you?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“No,” Anakin replied, hesitant. “There are better things to do when on shore leave.” Blush coloured his sun-kissed cheeks.

Ahsoka recalled the brilliant smile of Senator Amidala, and snorted. Sure he’d think so.

“Well I did today,” she said miserably, letting out a wet chuckle. “And I happened upon this stupid talk show. You know, the one of those where the war is an excuse for thirsting for Jedi?”

The blush on Anakin’s cheeks darkened, and Ashoka laughed for real this time. Anyone who spent more than five minutes in his company would know that had as much in common with _the dashing and smooth hero_ the HoloNet described him as, as Tatooine had with Coruscant.

“I … am aware of those,” he choked out.

“Yes, well, they talked about … about me,” Ahsoka spat out. “And they said that I’m … that I’m ugly, and incompetent, and inexperienced, and that I will just slow you and Master Obi-Wan down, and that …”

“What? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!” Anakin protested. “You saved my life _so many times_ , and we’ve been in this together only for a few months …” He clamped his mouth shut, eyes screaming murder. “How dare they?”

“They also said that … that hopefully I’ll just get killed soon, and then you won’t have to bother with me anymore,” she finished, refusing to meet his eye.

“Snips,” Anakin spoke after a while. “You didn’t … you didn’t believe any of that stuff, did you?”

“It’s not that … I …” she met his intense gaze. “I know that I’m … I’m not perfect, but I’m not … I’m not that bad … right?”

“ _Never_ ,” he swore. “I know I wasn’t very nice to you when we first met, and I’m sorry, but I swear you’re the best Padawan I could have ever asked for.”

“Really?” Ahsoka asked.

“Really. If anything, I’m the one slowing you down,” he added with a grin.

Ahsoka felt the corners of her lips curve upwards. “I’ll remember that, Skyguy.”

“You better, my young Padawan,” Anakin said, in a terrible imitation of Master Obi-Wan. “You better.”


	2. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!!!

II

Ahsoka strolled the streets of some backwater Outer Rim planet, her lightsabers and face concealed by a cloak. This was a stealth mission, one of the type neither she nor her Master enjoyed much.

She passed by a stand that sold actual flimsi magazines, and it took all her (life-long) training not to stop and stare. There were few things that could not be found on Coruscant, and these were one of them.

Rumour had it that there were physical books somewhere deep in the Temple Archives, under the watchful eye of Madam Nu. If that were true, then Ahsoka has most certainly never seen anything like that. But then again, it’s not like the Council would ever give a mere Padawan access to such a treasure.

But books were one thing, these were _magazines_.

She approached the stand and paid the bored-looking Bith behind the counter a few credits in exchange for one of the dusty magazines. The man probably thought he was ripping her off, but so far as Ahsoka was concerned, she was paying for the novelty of it, not the magazine itself.

Rolling it up under her elbow, she continued her way to the cantina she was originally going to. Once there, she ordered a drink she knew she would not take a single sip of, and rolled out her newly acquired magazine.

For a moment, Ahsoka Tano forgot she was a Jedi, and a commander in the Grand Army of the Republic, and just pretended to be a spy from those contraband, _ancient_ holodramas the younglings watched when the Masters couldn’t see.

She went through a couple pages. It was mostly silly gossip, and stupid quizzes, but then something caught her attention—in the shape of her own form plastered across one page, an article beneath it. A boldened title perched above the magazine Ahsoka’s montrals.

She slapped the thing shut. She’d gotten burned once before. She would not do it again.

The mission went well, as they always do when Anakin and Ahsoka are on them. She easily spotted the arms dealer who’d been selling to the Seppies, shadowed him to his base of operations, where the boys from the 501st took over and captured him. He was in the cellblock of the _Resolute_ right now, waiting to be interrogated. She would not be present for it. Interrogations, no matter how much more merciful the Republic forces were compared to the Confederacy, always left a bitter aftertaste in her mouth.

Now that she had already finished her allotted training for today, and Anakin is off to help with the interrogation, she found herself in a rare predicament of having absolutely nothing to do. Normally, Ahsoka would have welcomed such an occurrence, but today, her mind kept drifting towards the magazine.

For some stupid reason, she hadn’t gotten rid of it. She didn’t know what compelled her to keep the thing, much less what urged her to it now.

After some debating, Ahsoka took the offending magazine, and flipped to the page with the article about her.

_Ahsoka Tano (15) of the 501 st Legion, despite the fact that she works closely with Gen. A. Skywalker (20) and Gen. O. Kenobi (36), probably the most famous and publicized among the GAR officials, and thus often pushed into the spotlight, apparently doesn’t feel the need or duty to set up an example to the young ladies all across the Republic._

_Tano has been scandalizing the galactic community with her completely inappropriate outfits since she first joined the war effort, at the Battle of Chrisophsis. It appears her favoured style is a tube top and very tight leggings. This shows not only her uncaring for the fragile and still-growing minds the galaxy’s young, who now wish to emulate their “hero” by wearing equally obscene clothes, but also a lack of respect towards her male colleagues, who have to witness her slutty behaviour every day._

_It’s unclear whom exactly Tano desires to seduce this way, but guesses range all from the Jedi, over the officers, to the clone troopers. The nerve this woman has is truly astounding—and disturbing._

_For Ahsoka Tano, we have one message—cover up, you little whore._

Ahsoka stared at the page, non-comprehending.

What the …

Why even … what?

She read through the article again, one time, two, three, before furiously setting it down. _How dare they?!_ How dare they accuse her like that … insult her like that?

_‘Scandalizing the galactic community?!’_

_‘Obscene clothes?!’_

_‘Slutty behaviour?!’_

_‘Seduce?!’_

_‘WHORE?!’_

She was a Force-damned _commander_ in the GAR. A Jedi Padawan to the Chosen One. And they … they would bring her down on a level of an attention-seeking, gold-digging …

She grabbed the magazine, and dumped it right in the trash where it belonged. Unlike the last time, she wasn’t sad, or even upset. She most certainly didn’t feel it like a blow to her self-esteem.

But, oh, she was _furious._

It wasn’t a very Jedi-like emotion, but frankly, at this moment, Ahsoka couldn’t care less.

She needed to punch something, badly.

Fortunately, the _Resolute_ had a place just for that.

Rex found her three hours later, attacking a punching bag with all the ferocity of a nexu, striking it with her fists and feet and elbows and knees, and all other available body parts.

“Commander?” he called. “What did that poor bag do to you?”

Ahsoka paused her assault, and wrapped a new string of gauze around her knuckles before answering. “It’s not the bag.”

“That’s good to hear,” Rex deadpanned. “I was already afraid our punching bags have gone sentient. We’re in a middle of a war, the last thing we need is a punching bag revolution.”

“That’s a dumb joke,” she muttered.

“Maybe,” Rex conceded. “But then why are you smiling, Commander?”

“Shut up,” she sighed, with no fire. “It’s the stupid reporters.”

“Ah,” Rex replied, crossing his arms over his chest. “I see. Did I ever tell you that one time, a reporter shoved smutty clone art in my nose?”

Ahsoka felt her eyes widen and her jaw slack. “They _didn’t_.”

“Yup,” Rex said, making a face. “Because, you know, nothing speaks of brotherly love as two clones rough—”

“Okay, okay, I get it, tiny montrals here,” Ahsoka squealed.

“And I also witnessed someone asking the General if he’s ever slept with Kenobi,” Rex continued. “I’ve never seen anyone go green so fast in my life. I think it traumatized him.”

“Force,” Ahsoka muttered. “Glad to know I’m not the only one.”

“So, what happened?” Rex asked gently, coming a few steps closer.

Ahsoka sighed, and pursed her lips. “They called me a whore, and a slut, and accused me of trying to seduce you all.”

When she looked up, Rex’s expression was absolutely baffled.

“Seduce us?” he choked out. “You’re a _kid._ ”

“I outrank you, Captain,” she said, smiling.

“In my book, Commander, experience outranks everything,” Rex replied. “C’mon now kid, let’s see how good of a punch you pack.” He raised his arms, ready to defend.

“So I could punch out the teeth of the next reporter who dares to even think about any of us?” Ahsoka asked, falling into stance.

“One day, Commander,” Rex promised, “one day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Scuse my horrendous article-writing skills, but I fear I'm no reporter ...  
> (And no offense to, like ... actual reporters)  
> Anyway, writing that article made my physically sick! Yaaay!
> 
> Edit:   
> After season 7 of the Clone Wars ... man I just realized Rex calls Ahsoka 'kid' in this one ... excuse me while I sob.


	3. III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!!!

III

Eventually, Ahsoka learned that intentionally trying to see what the media said or wrote about her was a stupid practice. Some people, she figured, simply didn’t have enough drama in their lives, so they sought to fill the void with other people’s—real or manufactured. She stopped looking at magazines, stopped watching anything even remotely connected to the war on the HoloNet. For a while, she was blissfully uncaring.

But some things, not even she could avoid.

She was in the bus, on her way to Padmé’s, minding her own business, chin propped up on her wrist, watching the buildings speed by, and the citizens of Coruscant, beings of all shapes and sizes, going about their daily routine.

“Excuse me dear,” a wizened voice drew Ahsoka out of her ponderings, and she turned to see a wrinkled old Aqualish woman standing before her, leaving heavily onto a walking cane.

“Would you like to sit?” Ahsoka asked, raising to her feet.

“Thank you, dear,” the woman replied with a relieved smile that Ahsoka couldn’t help but reciprocate, and took the place. “Here you can still sit. There’s plenty of space.”

Ahsoka nodded, and sat.

Another few stations were passed in peace, when a pair beings her age entered the bus, loudly discussing something. Ahsoka didn’t bother trying to understand what, until she heard, quite clearly, one of them mention _her name._

Carefully, unwilling to be accused of listening in, Ahsoka focused her attention on what they were saying. Her montrals, more sensitive than most other species’ ears, caught the sounds clearly.

“You really think so?” a male voice said, a note of suspicion in his tone.

“Obviously,” the other voice, a girl’s, said. “Is that really so surprising, though? I mean … they spend a lot of time together, and neither of them is exactly bad on the eyes. So ... you know … one thing leads to the other, and so on, and so on.”

“But Tano and Skywalker? Really?”

Ahsoka felt her body go rigid. Did they … did they really think that …

Oh, Force.

Disgust filled her every pore. She … she and … oh, _Force._

“Absolutely! You know how it is on the battlefields, with tensions running high …” the girl continued enthusiastically.

“I don’t,” the boy said, confused. “I’ve never been on a battlefield.”

“Well, trust me. Tano and Skywalker—they’re _a thing._ ”

Something touched her shoulder lightly, and Ahsoka’s battle instincts kicked in. Lightning-fast, she twisted, one hand already reaching into her robe, grasping the hilt of her shoto saber.

She paused, when she saw the old lady, one hand still in the air, looking at her with alarm. She relaxed immediately.

“Sorry,” she tried. “Caught me … off guard, there.”

“Of course,” the woman said, a bit tightly. “I apologize. It’s just … you seemed unwell.”

_You don’t know the half of it._

“ _Are you_ unwell?”

“I … I’m fine,” Ahsoka said quickly. “From the corner of her eye, she saw the bus approaching the next stop. She was going to stay and get as close as possible to 500 Republica, but … “I have to go. It was … it was nice meeting you.”

The bus stopped, and Ahsoka all but ran out. Eventually, she settled into a normal pace, joining hundreds of other pedestrians, even if her thoughts were millions of klicks away.

She … and Anakin. Ahsoka and Anakin.

Together.

Like … like that.

The thought would’ve been ridiculous if it wasn’t so _wrong_.

They were a Master and a Padawan. The closest relationship a Jedi had to real family, even if the Council tried to deny it.

She would gladly give up her life for Anakin, and she was sure he felt the same, but just caring for one another didn’t mean … Force it revolted her to even think of him like that.

What the hell was wrong with people?!

The walk to Padmé’s building passed in a blur, and before she knew it, Padmé was embracing her, dressed in a simple, pale blue dress, her mass of chocolate brown curls falling freely down her back.

It was all good and fun, eating takeout, chatting about all the possible and impossible things, but an hour in, Padmé cocked her head, looking at her with furrowed brow.

“What?” Ahsoka asked, struggling to keep up a playful façade.

“You tell me,” the senator replied with infuriating calmness.

Ahsoka bristled. “There’s nothing to tell. I’m fine.”

Padmé simply curved a brow.

Ahsoka sighed. “Fine … I don’t know why I ever think any of you would ever leave me alone. You’re the same as Rex and Anakin, I swear.”

“I take that as a compliment,” Padmé said, smiling.

Ahsoka cast her a flat look. “Of course you would … I just … I overheard some kids on the bus, talking. And … one of them was convinced that … Anakin and I … Force, I can’t even say it. It’s too absurd.”

“What?”

She took a deep breath. “They said Anakin and I were … together. As in … romantically toghether.” Her face screwed up at that last one, voice coming out in a revolted squeak.

“Oh. I see.” Padmé’s cheeks flushed scarlet, and she looked away, letting a curtain of hair hide her face from Ahsoka.

“Which I’m not!” Ahsoka said quickly. “Absolutely not!”

“I know that,” Padmé amended. “Just …”

“It’s okay,” Ahsoka reassured her. If half the GAR’s suspicions about her and Anakin were correct … “I just … how can they think something like that? Anakin’s my Master, my friend my—” _my brother_ , she wanted to say.

But she couldn’t, because even only admitting that out loud would constitute a major breach of the Code. She could already imagine Master Windu’s perpetual frown deepening, the disapproving look on Master Yoda’s face, even Master Obi-Wan’s disappointment. She couldn’t do that, to them or herself.

But from the way Padmé looked at her with sympathy in those big, doe-like brown eyes, Ahsoka thought the Senator understood her meaning full well.

“Hey,” her friend said, full lips curved into a fine smile. “It’s okay, Ahsoka. Who cares what the media or the people say? What matters is what _you_ know.” She pressed a manicured finger to Ahsoka’s brow. “If they don’t find a story to spread, they will make one up. That’s how the media works.”

“Well, it shouldn’t,” Ahsoka muttered, hugging her knees close to her chest. “It’s stupid.”

Padmé let out a soft chuckle. “We are in agreement then, my friend. But honestly, considering everything that is happening all across the Republic right now, untrustworthy holoreporters are the least of my problems.”

She looked away, eyes fixed on the horizon. For the first time, Ahsoka noticed the tightness in her shoulders, and the dark circles beneath her eyes.

This war was taking its toll on Padmé just as much as everyone on the front. Taking from her brief experiences with the Galactic Senate, Ahsoka wasn’t surprised. Battles waged there may be less bloody, but there was a ruthlessness to politicians that she has encountered in no battlefield commander. For the first time, she wondered how difficult it must be for Padmé to hold onto her values in such an environment, surrounded by vipers on all sides.

“Yeah,” Ahsoka whispered. “You’re right.”

Padmé turned her head back to Ahsoka, and embraced her. “No matter what, Ahsoka, you can always count on me, you know that?”

Ahsoka buried her face into Padmé’s hair. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“I expect nothing less.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There really isn't enough of Ahsoka & Padmé friendship on this site ... or in canon.


	4. IV - the Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, boy, we're at an end. I really enjoyed writing this, even if it's a lot shorter than the previous chapters, but I don't think there's anything more to add.
> 
> Enjoy!!!

IV

Three days ago, Ahsoka Tano walked out of the Council Chamber, terrified, but determined.

Three days ago, Anakin Skywalker followed her out, desperation in those kind blue eyes, offering her back the silka beads that had once meant the world to her.

Three days ago, Ahsoka closed his fist around them, and gave him a gentle smile, likely her last smile he would ever see.

Three days ago, Ahsoka’s entire life changed beyond anything she ever could have imagined.

And now she was alone.

She walked down the streets of Coruscant’s underbelly, gaze cast downwards, shoulders curled inwards, what little possessions she had clutched in a bag that hung from her shoulders.

The galaxy had never seemed so big and scary before.

But despite everything, Ahsoka didn’t regret leaving. As much as being here plunged her into despair, remaining there, with those … _people_ who were willing to have her _killed_ without second thought to save face … people she had _trusted_ more than she had trusted herself…

_Master Obi-Wan … Master Plo … why?_

Staying there, without trust, would slowly kill her.

She wished Anakin was with her. She wished he had the courage to do what he wanted so dearly. The courage to free himself from the yoke that was so obviously choking the life out of him.

_Perhaps one day …_

But that was foolish thinking, and Ahsoka could not afford herself to be optimistic. Not anymore.

So she walked on, one foot in front of the other, and again, and again, and again. She was uncertain where she was going, or what she was going to do with her life, but she did not doubt that she had made the right decision.

It was two days later that the holoreporters started picking up on her departure. It took her a while to realize—down in the lower levels, every day melted with the day that preceded and the day that followed, months and years passed unnoticed. Sometimes, she faintly wondered if some of the people who lived down here even knew there was a war on.

But the moment she set foot on one of the higher levels, she was assaulted all around with glowing commercials for tabloids, talk-shows, articles and holozines.

Her own face, lips set into a flat, determined line, fire blazing in her eyes, greeted her from a banner that perched on the side of one of the massive topside buildings, where the Senate speeches were usually broadcasted.

On a nearby tobacco joint, she caught glimpse of hundreds of holozines with her figure on the title page.

She felt dizzy just reading the titles

**_Ahsoka Tano leaves the Jedi Order?_ **

**_The True story behind Tano’s departure_ **

**_Commander Tano no longer fighting for the Republic?_ **

**_The 501 st is a member down—read more inside!_ **

**_The Tano affair—covering up a terrorist attack?_ **

Ahsoka stared at them, all speculating on things they could never understand—and found that she didn’t care much. What could they even do? What power did they have over her? In two weeks, the galaxy will forget that Ahsoka Tano ever existed.

She had had the courage to leave the only life she has ever known behind, penniless and terrified without the promise of _anything_ in her future, save maybe death.

She had had the courage to recognize the people she has been taught her whole life were infallible, as in the _wrong_ , and do something about it.

She was Ahsoka Tano, and she did not need anyone to tell her that what the public thought didn’t matter, because now, truly, it _didn’t._

Taking a deep breath, Ahsoka pulled her hood deeper down, and marched off into the unknown. Maybe, _just maybe,_ a better life awaited.

**Author's Note:**

> I like to call this piece How to Parent When You Are an Even Bigger Mess Than the Kid You've Been Given.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Karma](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23805613) by [Firecadet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firecadet/pseuds/Firecadet)




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